


Bedside Manner

by queerli



Series: Dorian the Cat [4]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Background Aziraphale/Crowley, Dorian the Cat, Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 16:38:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20118229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerli/pseuds/queerli
Summary: Crowley has a headache, but help comes from an unexpected quarter.





	Bedside Manner

**Author's Note:**

> Hurrah for 1 a.m. writing! 
> 
> Part of my Dorian the Cat series, but it isn’t necessary to read the rest of the series to understand this. I was itching to write a drabble-y thing so here it is.
> 
> Slight mention for emetophobia.

Crowley stirs from an uneasy slumber at the faint creak of the bedroom door. The throbbing in his temples has dulled, somewhat, but nausea still roils in his stomach, and he doesn’t much fancy the thought of sitting up.

“That you, angel?” he mumbles. His answer comes in the form of skittering paws over wooden floorboards, followed by a slight weight landing on the mattress beside him. A furry round thing paws insistently at his arm, and he can’t resist the urge to groan.

“No, Dorian. I can’t play with you today.” Crowley gingerly lifts the cold, damp cloth over his aching eyes for just long enough to see Dorian’s broad, inquisitive face hovering inches away from his nose. Even that brief glimpse sends a sharp spike through his brain, and he winces and drops the cloth back over his forehead.

“Where did you even come from?” he mutters. “I thought Aziraphale was keeping you in the shop so you wouldn’t come upstairs.”

He debates calling the angel to take Dorian away. As much as he (grudgingly) loves the cat, he really does feel awful, and any activity more strenuous than sleeping is bound to make him worse. But Dorian doesn’t bounce on the mattress or tread on his face or serenade him with noisy meows, as Crowley fears. Instead, he gains a furry hat as Dorian, with unexpected prudence, circles around his head and plops — carefully — down onto the pillow. His tail tickles Crowley’s cheek, and quietly, all but inaudibly, Dorian begins to purr, rumbling through his chest and soothing a measure of the ache in Crowley’s skull.

Crowley gradually melts back into the mattress as Dorian’s warmth presses against his skin. “Good boy,” he says sleepily, and drifts off once more to the lullaby of Dorian’s self-satisfied purrs.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and feedback are always appreciated. ❤️
> 
> Tumblr: ethereal-not-occult


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